confessions
by Experiment G1T8L1
Summary: Dib plots to take his own life and writes his good-bye to the world. IF it continues past the first chapter, it may contain ZADR. Rated T for medium-strong language.
1. Chapter 1

This was beta-ed by The Almighty Authoress

I do not own Invader Zim, or dib.

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><p>Dib smiled. Clicking open Word and started to type. He knew exactly what he wanted to say.<p>

"_Dear World,_"  
>He began, starting his goodbye the customary way.<br>"_You've gone too far._  
><em>You've pushed me off the edge, or farter.<em>"  
>Dib frowned, fixing his mistake and continuing on. Not long ago, he would have laughed at a mistake like that.<br>_"Or farther._  
><em>What I thought was a safe, solid path too quickly became a thin wire, guided by your goading. Your claims as to my sanity, or rather, lack of it.<em>"  
>Dib took a deep breath before continuing, he had to finish quickly if he wanted to leave this world of idiots before anyone could stop him, not that anyone would. "<em>I've fallen now, Happy?<em>  
><em>I'll laugh at your screams,<em>  
><em>as you perish at Zim's whims.<em>  
><em>I'm too fucking tired to keep fighting.<em>  
><em>I'm too fucking angry at you all to try.<em>  
><em>I've. Given. Up.<em>

_Good luck fending off the invasion, Agent Mothman (Dib)_"

Dib ran his hand over his hair, re-reading the composition before saving it and heading down stairs to get a knife from the kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N. ... I no own IZ, only this plot... *looks over at a dark cage*...bunny?**

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><p>Dib selected the knife, hurrying back to his room. He was grateful that Gaz was having a sleep over with some of her game friends. His father was working, of course, he always was. Dib listed, starting to open the door that was plastered with fading or peeling paranormal stickers. The only person who might possibly stop him was-<p>

-Sitting in Dib's computer chair. Zim turned in the chair to face his nemesis. "Zim demands to know the reason behind this." He said coolly, steepening his pointed fingers, one exposed antenna cocked in his question-that-wasn't style, the other almost touching his skull in a faux lazy pose.

Dib looked at the alien, one eyebrow raised, his knife quickly hidden behind his back. "Did you seriously come over here... without your costume?"

"Yes, Zim is so great of an invader; he does not need the itchy earth-pig disguise!" Zim said a flourish of his odd three-fingered hands and a tilt of his head accenting his words. "But that is not the answer Zim wishes." He folded his arms across his chest and returned his magenta gaze to the human before him.

"Or you realized that no one notices or cares." Dib sighed, rubbing a temple with two freezing fingers.

"Or that, yes. Now, answer Zim's question or face the wrath of ZIM!"

"Why should I?" Dib's hand twitched, clenching around the knife held there. "It's none of your business!"

Zim's glowing eyes first widen in shock at Dib's tone, then narrowed in scorn and barely held rage. "But it is ZIM's business. Not only are you ZIM's most entertaining rival, but ZIM's glorious name is mentioned. ZIM shall ask only once more, what is this about?" Zim stood, a shadow against the sunset's colors, his antenna no longer faking inattention and partial interest. They stood straight up, adding to the small Irken's height. "Answer me, big-headed boy." He snarled through sharp, pink-tinged teeth that, like his eyes, glowed with reflected light.

Dib sighed. "That's... a farewell. I'm leaving."

"Leaving? You have a ship?"

"No." Dib shook his head, solemn, resolute in his plans. "Not since you blew up Tak's old ship."

"Then how are you-... Oh."

"Yeah. Now, you know, so go. Scream 'Victory for Zim' somewhere else."

"How is this victory?"

"You get Earth! You and your empire can HAVE it!" Dib snarled, the not-holding-a-knife hand flinging out, a sad attempt at proving his point. Yet another bad habit he had taken from Zim over the years of constant watching.

"No." Zim shook his head. "That is not what the all-mighty Zim meant. There can't be victory without battle. You are giving up, with the little white coward-flag of shame." Zim waved an index finger lazily, like a flag in the wind. "The Dib-Stink Zim knows doesn't give up. Zim should know, we've been fighting for, what, five earth years now?" The claw-like finger gave up waving to point at the human.

"Five and a half." Dib whispered, looking anywhere but at the alien in his room. The last vestiges of sunset left the two once-foes in a gloomy, purple haze.

"Then, why, Dib-depressed, are you doing this? Why now?"

"Because no one cares!"

"Then," The alien hissed, stepping carefully closer to Dib, "Why did you wait... until sunset... So your spawn-controller wouldn't be home... On a day where your scary 'siss-tur' was gone? And avoid the almighty Zim for the past week!"


End file.
